Chapter 35 - Resurrection in Fire
The command had barely left Daniel Prime's lips when Operative 7 moved.
He didn't move like a man trying to survive; he moved like a catastrophic weapon that had just been unleashed.
With blinding speed, Operative 7 reached down, ripped an emergency flare canister from the skiff's bulkhead, struck the percussion cap against his knee, and hurled the burning, 2,000-degree magnesium torch directly into the face of the lead operative stepping onto the skiff.
The flare struck the operative's visor in an explosion of blinding white fire and acrid smoke. The man shrieked, stumbling backward into the fuel slick that had pooled on the deck from the damaged outboard engine.
*FWOOSH!*
A wall of orange fire roared to life between the skiff and Prime’s guards.
"Cover the girl!" 7 bellowed, grabbing the dead operative’s rifle from the deck before the flames could consume it.
He didn't fire at the men on the catwalks; he fired at the ceiling.
Three armor-piercing rounds shattered the high-pressure hydraulic lines operating the secondary drainage valves. Thousands of gallons of pressurized water and toxic foam erupted from the overhead pipes, turning the wet dock into a swirling tempest of blinding mist, steam, and screaming sirens.
"Kill him! Kill him now!" Prime’s voice screeched over the intercom, losing its polished composure for the first time.
Gunfire erupted from every catwalk. Bullets hammered into the steel hull of the skiff, ricocheting off the deck in blinding sparks.
Operative 7 scooped Lily into his left arm, using the billowing curtain of steam as cover. He didn't run toward the exits—he ran toward the ballast drainage trench beneath the gantry.
A bullet grazed 7’s shoulder, tearing through flesh and muscle, but the synthetic pain inhibitors in his nervous system—the very programming Prime had installed—kicked into overdrive. The pain vanished, replaced by an electric surge of pure, focused adrenaline.
He vaulted over a burning fuel barrel, slid across the wet steel, and kicked open an emergency maintenance hatch that dropped into the bowels of the warship.
"Daddy!" Lily gasped, clinging to his torn vest as they tumbled into the dark, narrow service conduit below.
"I’ve got you, baby," 7 whispered, his voice steady despite the blood dripping down his arm. "I’ve got you. Nobody touches you. Not while I’m breathing."
They landed hard on a metal grating four stories below the wet dock, deep within the ship's mechanical heart. The air here was heavy with the smell of diesel exhaust and boiling steam. Below the grating, massive drive shafts the thickness of redwood trees spun with deafening, rhythmic power.
Daniel set Lily down behind a heavy steel transformer box. He knelt before her, his hands trembling as he gently wiped soot and sea water from her cheeks.
"Lily, listen to me," he said, looking straight into her brown eyes. "You heard what that man said up there. You heard what I am."
Lily reached out with her small, dirty hand and touched the jagged cut on his cheek. Her thumb caught a tear that was slipping down his face—a real, burning tear.
"The box said you were made," Lily whispered, her lower lip trembling. "Are you real, Daddy?"
Daniel felt his throat tighten. The memories in his head might have been lines of code, the wedding to Claire might have been an algorithmic simulation, but the burning, tearing agony in his chest right now—the desperate, unyielding need to protect this child—could not be fabricated by any machine on earth.
"I don't know what I was when they turned me on, Lily," he said, his voice cracking with emotion. "But right now? In this dark, dirty ship? I am the man who jumped off that cliff for you. I am the man who would tear this entire ocean apart before I let anyone hurt you. That makes me your father. Do you understand me? That makes me your daddy."
Lily stared at him for a long, silent moment. Then, she threw her arms around his neck, burying her face into his chest.
"I love you, Daddy," she cried softly.
Daniel closed his eyes, holding her with a ferocity that defied all logic, all science, all programming.
May you like
Above them, the heavy iron door of the conduit was violently kicked open. Heavy boots began clattering down the spiral metal stairs.
***
